


Birds of a Feather

by mikaylalwrites



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Gellert Grindelwald, Autistic Newt Scamander, Coffee Shops, High School, Newt is a Dork, Other, Platonic Relationships, Protective Newt Scamander, Some Humor, and this is my best attempt at uk schools, he's ready to fight people, just a little, obviously, some bullying involved, they're both year 10s, tina and queenie aren't here either
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2020-07-19 11:37:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19973428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikaylalwrites/pseuds/mikaylalwrites
Summary: In which Newt transfers from being home-schooled to attending a state secondary school. He tries to talk to everyone about his special interests and love of animals but it leads him nowhere. His first day ends with a bruise, new bullies, new hangouts, and a mysterious person in a hoodie.





	1. Bullies and Birdwatching

**Author's Note:**

> More bird-related titles, sorry not sorry.

Newt stared at the ensemble of clothes left after shoving his sportswear into a sports bag. He considered each item and how likely it was he’d bother trying to wear them. Strewn across his bed was a pair of black trousers, a white collared shirt, a black sweater, a black pair of unshined shoes, a blue blazer and matching tie. The socks that accompanied the shoes were too plain and not as comfortable as he might have liked. He glanced at the fuzzy yellow socks peeking out of his open wardrobe. Maybe he could get away with switching out a pair of socks. He seized his socks and slipped them onto his feet. Much better, he thought to himself. There was absolutely no way he was wearing the tie that came with the uniform. He preferred bow ties to regular ties and besides, the one in front of him looked like it was made of wool or something else that itched. Everything else would do, he liked wearing a shirt under his sweaters. He shook free of his pajamas and threw each item of clothing, save the tie, on in flashes of white, black, and blue. He fixed his gingery hair by running a hand through it and declared himself presentable. Wrapped his hand simultaneously around the straps of his sports kit and backpack and hauled them onto his shoulders. He scanned the room to be sure he hadn’t forgotten anything and headed out. He took in a deep breath of the chilly September air and embarked on his first day of Year 10 in a state school.   
The first unpleasant event of the day began with boarding the city bus. Newt was used to the annoyances of public transportation but today everything was simply too loud. For whatever reason, someone found it suitable to bring along her crying baby for the morning commute. Then there was the impolite teenage boy playing a mobile game at full volume. And the icing on the cake was truly the man unabashedly swearing at his significant other over the phone. Newt found himself wishing that one or preferably all of them would be kicked off. He had no such luck. The swearing gentleman missed his stop by a few blocks but eventually disembarked, having ended the heated conversation with the person on the phone. The woman with the distraught baby left the bus with more wrinkles and less patience. Newt never saw the teenage boy get off the bus. Newt relaxed as his stop came into view. The school building itself was mildly underwhelming but that didn’t matter much. This was an opportunity to make friends and learn new things. Or at least that’s how Newt saw it. The first group of kids he saw were a little older than him. Newt figured they were a group of Year 12s. Nonetheless, Newt approached them. At first, he was struggling to find anything comprehendible to say. He laughed it off while they stared at him rather unamusedly.   
“Hello,” he said after a moment. None of them said anything back. “I’m Newt Scamander, and you are?”   
“Bugger off,” said a boy with chocolate brown hair and his tie hanging loosely around his neck. He stared at all of their uninterested faces for a moment before walking away. He didn’t take too much offense to his brief conversation with the band of Year 12s until he heard them snickering. His smile faltered for a moment but ultimately, he took a deep breath in and carried forward. It’ll be alright, Newt said to himself, there are other friends to be had. He talked to girls in the hallway about his collection of books on toads before his first class. The conversation was cut short by the girls giggling at his awkwardness and his cheeks turning a radish shade of red. He tried his best to pay attention in his first class but found himself distracted by bluebirds having a meeting on the windowsill. He wondered what birds talked about. He opened a notebook and began to write down his observations. Somehow, the teacher noticed Newt’s distractedness and requested to see him after class. This wasn’t how he’d hoped his first day would go.   
“You don’t find English particularly intriguing, Mr. Scamander,” his teacher said plainly. “Why’s that?”   
“There were bluebirds at the window,” Newt said. His teacher pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “They were congregating there. I wonder what they were talking about.”   
His teacher shook her head. “Bluebirds don’t talk about anything.”   
“It would be dull if they sat at the window in silence, wouldn’t it?”   
With that, Newt scurried off to his second class, leaving his English teacher in silence. There weren’t any bluebirds at the window to distract him in his next class. The blinds were shut so his eyes were forced to focus on the plump figure teaching him math. Math had never been his favorite subject. After all, what more could you do with such complex numbers than speak to computers? It wasn’t soon enough when the class came to an end and his next class began.   
Lunch in any school with other kids is an odd affair. Where does one sit if they don’t have any friends? Newt was pondering this exact thing as he stared out into the labyrinth of benches in the cafeteria. There weren’t any discernible cliques as far as he could tell but everyone seemed equally unapproachable. Since not a single table was entirely empty, he had to make some sort of decision. How important was it who he sat with the first day anyway? He could probably switch tables everyday if he wanted. No one’s names were written on them. Newt decided to avoid the Year 12s and the girls from earlier. He wasn’t in the mood for more laughing at his expense. He darted out into the maze and took the first turn he saw, Without much thought, he sat down at the nearest table. No one said anything when he sat down. They were too invested in their own meals, their own lives, and their own conversations to acknowledge Newt existed. Newt thought it best to keep to himself and ate.   
When the bell rang at the end of the day, Newt found himself both relieved and disappointed. On one hand, classes were over until tomorrow. On the other, he hadn’t made any progress with anyone all day. Newt shrugged it off and figured he would find a friend tomorrow. Before Newt reached the bus stop at the end of the road, he noticed a flash of blue cross his vision. He dropped his backpack by a bush and followed the trail of small bird-like footprints in the dirt. He found them eventually in a tree. The bluebirds were in the middle of yet another meeting. Newt watched them intently, notebook in hand. They fluttered this way and that, not paying Newt any attention. Amongst his many books on animals, there was only one on birds. He’d only skimmed it once. What was the wingspan of bluebirds versus other types? What was the smallest wingspan a bird could have anyway? The birds chirped noisily around Newt as he followed them with his eyes. He alternated from bird to bird, watching as many of their movements as he could. A new noise interrupted his birdwatching. It sounded like laughing. Newt spun on his heels to get a look at the hyenas behind him. They weren’t actually hyenas, he realized. Their laughs were shrill, loud, and taunting like the creature Newt had read many books on. He’d never seen one in person. He recognized the one on the right immediately. Chocolate hair, loose tie, and a smug expression stained to his face that couldn’t be washed away with the strongest of detergents. His friend was another Year 12 with blonde hair that was sandy enough to be a beach. His lips were as loose as his friends tie. He didn’t stop talking.   
“Shut up, Matt,” said the chocolate haired boy. “You’re giving me a massive headache.” At that, the sandy blonde one, Matt as Newt now knew him, sealed his lips. Newt turned to find his bird companions but they’d all flown away. “Talk to birds often?”   
Newt hesitated. He hadn’t said anything, had he? No, of course not. “No, I wasn’t-”   
“We should all be scared, Matt. We’ve got an escaped nutter on our hands,” the chocolate haired boy said as if Newt hasn’t opened his mouth. “Should’ve known though, what kind of boy with his head on straight wears girly socks?”   
“Socks can’t be girly,” said Newt indignantly. “They’re on my feet, aren’t they?”   
“Hm, I thought I heard somebody say something,” said Matt, with a hand cupped over his ear. “Must be hearing things.”   
“Yeah,” replied the chocolate haired boy. “It was just the ramblings of the boy who talks to birds. Don’t mind him.”   
Newt decided against validating that with a reply. He gave both of them a wide berth to retrieve his bookbag. Before he could catch his breath or grab his bag, the ground rose up to meet him. Or rather, someone tripped him and he fell onto his face.   
“Too busy thinking of a comeback to watch your feet, bird boy?”   
Newt didn’t bother mentioning how ridiculous that sounded. He pushed himself off the ground and ignored the snickering of the two Year 12s beside him. He shoved his notebook into his book bag and headed off to the bus stop. He pulled his phone from his pocket and opened his camera. He angled it towards his chin. Other than a scrape that would likely become a bruise come tomorrow, Newt was unscathed. He sighed and opened his blog and typed out a post on the bluebirds he studied that day. He didn’t have very many followers but he was a part of a group of people who studied animals amd shared their findings. His blog was full of facts, sketches, and photos he’d taken of all sorts of creatures. He’d never mention the Year 12s on that blog. Not that they’d ever find out, Newt went by his middle name online. His online friends knew him as artlessartemis, a rather meaningless username he’d created in Year 6, or simply as Artemis. Occasionally, someone would mistake him for a girl. New would politely correct them and go about his day. He closed out the application on his phone and slipped it back into his pocket. The bus had arrived.   
This time, Newt decided to sit at the back of the bus. It was mostly empty except someone wearing a large hoodie that concealed most of their face. A children’s fantasy book covered the rest. The person in the hoodie made no moves to talk to Newt and he didn’t make any moves to talk to them. Instead, he pulled out his notebook and jotted notes into the margins. The person in the hoodie exited the bus before did. Newt noted that it was a rather prestigious part of town. Humans confused Newt the most. Animals made sense. Humans didn’t. Why did those Year 12s refuse to be his friend? Why did those girls laugh at him? Why was birdwatching so bad for a boy to want to do? Why was that person hiding themselves? Maybe they’ve done something horrible, Newt thought. Or maybe...he didn’t know. The bus arrived at Newt’s stop and he got off the bus. Newt considered going home. There’d be too many questions. Or maybe his teacher called and his mother would go on another one of her talks, which ended with how much more she liked his brother Theseus than him. Or at least that’s how those talks felt. He swung a left and found himself somewhere new. Newt hadn’t ever been one for coffee but maybe a quiet coffee shop is what he needed. A bell chimed when he ended the pale blue doors of The Vanilla Bean. It’s name sounded like an ice cream parlor rather than a coffee shop. The warm smell of coffee and caramel melted the tension that Newt hadn’t realized had been building in his shoulders. He took a seat at a table with white stools and a large painting of a beach on the wall. Newt had never been to a beach. Someone behind the counter cleared their throat.   
“What can I get for ya?” said a rosy cheeked barista in an accent that struck Newt as particularly American. “Or did you come to sit?”   
“I’m not sure,” said Newt. The barista moved from behind the register to the table Newt was sat at.   
“I’d recommend the caramel macchiato,” she said casually. Newt nodded silently. “Hey, what’s up?” Newt didn’t say anything. “Hold that thought, I’ll get you some water.” Newt watched as the barista practically hopped over the counter, grabbed a glass, filled it from the tap then topped it off with ice. She didn’t jump back over the counter but rather walked carefully. She placed the glass in front of Newt.   
“You’re meant to put the ice in first,” Newt said, staring at the nearly overflowing glass of water.   
“There isn’t a wrong way to put water in a glass,” the barista said. “Anyway, what’s up buttercup?”   
Newt was mid-sip into his water and nearly spit it out laughing. He swallowed and wiped his lip with the back of his hand.   
“Buttercup?” he asked.   
“It’s a thing my mom used to say.”   
Newt nodded, noting that any future conversations they may have.   
“It was my first day at a state school,” said Newt after a minute. “I thought I’d make some friends but everyone else had other plans.”   
“Oh,” said the barista. “Well, I’m sure someone will be your pal. You seem like a nice kid. You feel free to come by anytime you like.”   
“Thanks.”   
“Don’t worry about those other kids,” said the barista. “Not everyone’s nice. Not at your age, not at mine either.”   
“Why’d you leave America?” asked Newt.   
“That’s a story for another day,” said the barista with a smile. “I think we should start with names. I’m Elizabeth, Beth for short. What’s yours?”   
“Newt Scamander.”   
Beth held in a laugh. “Newt Salamander. I’d love to meet your parents. They’ve got to be interesting people.”   
“I suppose they are,” said Newt.   
Beth returned to her place behind the counter. Newt stood up to leave. “See you again sometime soon, Salamander?”   
Newt shrugged and left the coffee shop a lot happier and having made an odd new friend.


	2. Thieves and Theseus

Newt hadn’t seen the person in the hoodie on the bus the morning before but he saw them now. Similar to yesterday, a book concealed what the hoodie didn’t. Newt wondered if he should say hello. He doubted a person who wore a hoodie over their head and took special effort to sit in the back of the bus wanted to be talked to. Though, a person wearing fuzzy yellow socks as he was yesterday might want to be. Newt wasn’t wearing his fuzzy yellow socks. Not out of shame, they needed a wash. He replaced them with one of his other favorite pairs of socks, white ones with toads on them. He didn’t care what a few brutish Year 12s thought. The fact they lacked individuality didn’t bother him in the slightest. The bus was silent today, thankfully. Yesterday made him feel like he was going to have a meltdown. He pulled out a pair of headphones from his pockets and clicked on a video about mongoose eating habits that he’d been meaning to watch. He nearly got halfway through it before his stop came into view. The person in the hoodie got off the bus with him. He got a small glimpse of what he thought was a black curl when they peered ever so slightly over their book to step off the bus. Obviously, the Year 12s had told some mates about their fun nickname for Newt as they called him it as he walked into school. He was now, for the next few years, Bird Boy. And loony. And the crazy kid who talks to birds. It didn’t matter. If Newt were lucky, it would all blow over soon enough. If he wasn’t, what was so wrong with Bird Boy anyway?  
Newt hurried off to his first class, refusing to pay attention to anyone. Today there wasn’t a bird in the window to distract him. He paid close attention to today’s lesson on Romantic poems. No one in his year bothered him. His teacher didn’t bother him as he left the classroom today either. Newt looked at the students leaving the classroom. Maybe he should try making friends with someone in his year. He spotted a particularly polite looking girl with bright red hair. He tried his best to flag her down but she was too focused on heading to her next class. Newt sighed and left the hallway. He decided to focus on his studies for the rest of the day.  
While Newt in the schoolyard looking studying and sketching a beetle he found while eating his lunch, a gang of boys, Year 11s Newt thought, decided to take a girl’s bookbag and hang it above their heads. She wasn’t particularly short, the boys were rather tall. The girl in question was shouting swear words at the boy with her bag and jumping at it. Her many black curls bounced up and down as she did so.  
“Come on, Lestrange! You can jump higher than that!” the boy was shouting. He stood on the very tips of his toes to keep it as far out of her reach as possible. It was infuriating.  
“You. little- give. it. back,” the girl was straining to yell at him between jumps to retrieve her bag. The boy just laughed. And laughed. And laughed. The girl stopped jumping. She was aware of how silly she looked. She got a clever idea in her head. She planted her foot directly into his groin. The boy with her bag sank to his knees. She grabbed her bag out of his hand. “Thank you.” She put the bag over her shoulder and began to walk away. The boy who had her bag now had his long brown hair full of dirt. His friends were red-faced and chased after the girl.  
“You’re gonna regret that!” shouted one of them. The girl didn’t run. She turned around to face them. Newt’s chin nearly fell to the ground. The boys stopped in her wake.  
“Am I?” she asked fiercely. Her arms were crossed in front of her. Her eyes were brown and daring them to come closer. The boys stood foolishly stepped forward. They shoved her, trying to get her to fall down. She didn’t. She swung her hand back to punch the one on the left square in the jaw. He caught her hand.  
“Nice try,” he said smugly. The girl struggled against his grip as he lifted his leg to kick her in the ribs. Newt stood. The voice of self-preservation in his head was telling him to run the other way. Something else was telling him to charge ahead. Newt was a pacifist. He was never going to hurt anyone. He thought about it now though. The boy dropped his foot when he saw Newt coming. Only to laugh, of course. The girl took this opportunity to bend his fingers back. He refused to release her until he yelped in pain. His hand pathetically slid off her. Before she could get a proper punch in, Newt was standing behind her, tugging on her sweater. The girl didn’t dare turn around until Newt tugged on her arm.  
“Let’s go,” he said. “You have your bag, haven’t you?”  
The girl loosened up and went along with Newt, who was slightly dragging her by the arm. He pulled her all the way into the hallway.  
‘Where are we going?” she asked, a tad harshly.  
“Aren’t we going to the headmistress? Those boys were harassing you.”  
“Yeah, what else is new?” she said nonchalantly.  
‘You don’t have to put up with that.”  
“Yes, I do. And I don’t need saving,” she said rudely. “Definitely not from someone like you.”  
“Someone like me?”  
“Bird Boy,” she said. “Has a nice ring to it don’t you think?”  
With that, she walked off. Newt stood alone in the middle of the hallway. Was he equally annoying to everyone? So far, it seemed so. Newt went back into the schoolyard to pick up his backpack. He found it missing from where he’d left it on the bench. He looked around the schoolyard lazily, hoping he’d find it without much effort. He found it in the hands of the great bag thief, or rather the boy who took the girl’s bag. Newt sighed and walked up to him.  
‘Can I have my bag back?” he asked boredly.  
“I don’t know,” replied the boy with the long hair. “Can you?”  
_“May I_ have my bag back?”  
“No,” the boy said mischievously. “You’ll have to get it from me.”  
“I’m not jumping for it.”  
“Suit yourself,” he said, dropping Newt’s bag into a puddle of mud. Newt bent his knees and gingerly pulled his bag from the mud. He suppressed a scowl while walking purposefully away from the long-haired boy’s annoying antics. Newt wished he knew the names of those pushing him around. Calling them by hair colors made him feel like a lovesick girl in a romance movie which he definitely was not. Names or no names, Newt knew they didn’t like him. And he had no problem admitting to himself he didn’t like them very much either.  
He found a place near the front of the school to check his bag. The most important thing was ensuring that his journal was intact. It was his life. Everything he’d studied about every animal he’d researched or encountered was in that journal. If it got destroyed, years of his life went along with it. Newt bit his lip and looked through his things. His phone was intact and so was his biology homework, unfortunately. After a little more digging, he found his journal at the bottom, looking as good as ever. He smiled to himself and let out a sigh of relief. Maybe today wasn’t so bad after all. He headed to the toilets to hopefully remove some of the mud on the outside of his bag. The toilets were empty so Newt got to work. He looked at himself in the mirror, only briefly, to make sure he was all in one piece. A few hairs had migrated in front of his eyes but he looked the same as usual. Soft ginger hair and a skin tone that was somewhere between pale and pink dotted with freckles. Newt could never decide if he loved or hated them. He turned on the faucet, removed his things from the bag, and proceeded to wash off the mud. Luckily, his bag wasn’t far off from the shade of brown that water-mixed dirt was. The patch left by the thick liquid was only slightly visible and only because of the water. Newt slung his bag on his back and attempted to carry all of his materials in his arms. It went as well as one might think. The books stayed securely under his arms while his pens, pencils, and highlighters dropped consistently from his fingertips. He could only hope a rogue writing utensil didn’t slip away for good.  
It wasn’t until after school that his bag was dry enough to put anything back into. Newt looked around for people who might try to bother him on his way to the bus. Other than the occasional snicker, about which incident Newt wasn’t sure, everyone left him alone. Newt boarded the bus without a hitch. He walked towards the back of the bus to reclaim his seat next to the person with the hoodie. It felt natural now. They were ensnared in yet another book. Newt wondered if they loved reading or simply loved hiding. Perhaps both. He also wondered if that was the only color of hoodie they owned or if it was part of the hiding. Newt found himself uninterruptedly staring at them, shuffling through questions. The person in the hoodie either didn’t notice Newt’s staring or didn’t care that he was. He cared though and forced his attention from the person in the hoodie. He hadn’t updated his blog since yesterday. He could share what he found on mongoose eating habits or maybe share the drawings of the beetle he found in the schoolyard. He pulled out his journal and lined up his phone camera to take a picture. Just as he heard the shutter, he could have sworn he felt a pair of eyes looking over his shoulder. He shook it off and pondered what fact he should caption it with. He flipped through his notes and decided on a particular pair of sentences. He posted it to his blog and scrolled through other blogs. He liked and shared a post on monitor lizards and another on emperor penguins. He turned off his phone and stared ahead. The gaze he felt trained on him was gone. He figured he’d imagined it.  
Despite Beth’s open invitation, Newt didn’t particularly want to go anywhere else today. He wanted to curl up with a blanket and a book on medicinal plants and animals. He was out of motivation and tired of people. When the bus reached the stop closest to his family apartment, he got off. He walked into the house and tried his best to hurry to his room.  
“Newton,” he heard from behind him. He sighed. Couldn’t he just have some peace today?  
“Yes?” he called from the hallway.  
“Come in the kitchen,” she said. Newt reluctantly turned around and headed towards the kitchen where his mother was sitting at the table drinking tea. His mother didn’t motion from him to sit and Newt didn’t grab a chair. “Theseus called.”  
“Lovely,” said Newt, with a hint of annoyance in his voice. Newt didn’t hate his brother, not really. Theseus wasn’t a bad person. It was hard to connect with him. In the eyes of his family, Theseus was perfect and Newt was....well, not. Theseus had a high position in law enforcement. He was a chief investigator. He had high marks in school. He was the poster child for academic excellence and bravery and everything Newt didn’t have. No, Newt didn’t hate Theseus, he didn’t like the pressure of not being like him. Besides, Theseus was eight years older than him. How could he relate to or compete with someone who was so far ahead?  
His mother ignored his unamused tone. “He asked us all to dinner. He says he has news.”  
“I’d rather not,” said Newt. “Send him my regards.”  
“You’re going,” said his mother. “And that’s the end of it.”  
“I don’t want to hear his news. I can’t possibly endure another display of how much better he is than me.”  
“You haven’t seen your brother in ages,” said his mother. “Come, eat, and enjoy his company.”  
“I’ll go,” said Newt, after a minute. “But I won’t enjoy it.”  
Newt took his mother’s silence as an opportunity to walk away. Today was much worse than I thought, he concluded. Dinner with Theseus? Now? He was already down on his luck. He hadn’t made a single friend at school and he was sure his brother would ask about it. He wouldn’t do it to be mean but it would feel like a personal attack in the moment. Newt fell back against his bed and sighed. It was a good time for a blanket, a book on medicinal plants and animals, and maybe some tea.  
He grabbed his fuzziest blanket out of a closet in the hall, put on a kettle of water, and looked through his bookshelves for that any books on medicinal plants and/or animals. By the time he located a book, which was only on medicinal plants, the water had boiled. He located a box of earl grey tea and grabbed a pouch of tea out of it. He found the largest mug he could find in the cupboard, put in the tea bag, and poured the boiling water from the kettle into it. He let his tea steep while skimming the table of contents in his book. Newt found each chapter title fascinating. He took a peek at chapter one then took his still steeping cup of tea to his room. He took a seat in a red bean bag chair he had in the corner of his room next to a nightstand. He started to read his book, sip his tea, and take his mind off school and Theseus’s impending visit. Despite his best efforts, he still wondered what purpose Theseus had in arranging an evening out after a year of near radio silence, or perhaps Newt was simply ignoring his calls. What news could possibly warrant forcing Newt to put on his nicest clothes and waltz into a restaurant only his brother and mother would like? Last year’s family gathering was uneventful and not in a pleasant way. As usual, Theseus tried to start a conversation Newt wanted no part of and his mother ignored him in favor of Theseus the entire evening. His mother wanted to know all about _Theseus’s_ job and _Theseus’s_ love life, and _Theseus’s_ this and his that. Newt’s mother favored Theseus because he had a “real job” and Newt aspired to be a zoologist, which as he had pointed out several times, was a real job, thank you very much. He doubted his mother knew or care that he wasn’t getting on well at school, not that he’d dare mention it. It would be “well, Theseus…” followed by another “be more like your brother speech.” Newt took another sip of tea and crammed his thoughts into the book he was reading, this time successfully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please leave kudos or a comment if you like this chapter!!
> 
> thanks!


	3. Homecoming and Hoodie Girl

Newt followed the same morning routine but with more dread than the past two days. He took a deep breath and got on the bus. Instinctively, he looked for the person in the black hoodie. He found them in their usual spot in the back of the bus. When the driver paused at a light, Newt moved to sit next to them. Today, he decided he'd try to make conversation with the mysterious stranger. He made his best attempt to make eye contact with them then let out a sigh of relief when he could see their eyes past the black hoodie. He looked down at his feet, studying his plain black school shoes.  
  
“Why are you hiding?” he asked, almost into his trousers. The person in the hoodie didn’t respond. Newt slumped in his seat and sighed. “Lovely. Another person who won’t talk to me. Why do only animals get me?” The person in the hoodie didn’t move or acknowledge Newt’s presence. “What are you reading?” Still nothing. He peered around at the title of the book. “A History Of Magicks. Are you into witchcraft? I think plants could be magical. Maybe one might make me disappear.” Newt slumped even further into his seat and stared at the people walking outside. He didn’t get most people but he might just understand the person in the hoodie. Maybe they didn’t feel good enough either. Maybe they need a friend too. Newt would try to be that friend, even if he was annoying. The bus stopped a little way from the school. The hoodie person descended the stairs of the bus without a single word. Newt got off at the next stop.  
  
Matt and his curly-haired friend was the first sight as he walked into the doors. Newt had a nagging thought to turn and run out the door. Newt wasn’t afraid of two school bullies. If he wasn’t scared of the world’s most venomous snakes, he wasn’t afraid of two pretty, hotheaded schoolboys. Newt held his head high and walked past them. They followed him, looking for entertainment. Newt didn’t dare turn around, didn’t dare give them any bit of his thoughts. They wanted his attention and he didn’t owe them that.  
“Bird boy!” one of them shouted. Newt didn’t know which one and he didn’t care. He searched the room for the girl from yesterday, Lestrange. He wondered what her first name was. He aimed to find out. His eyes locked with her brown ones and he headed towards her. That didn’t stop Matt and his friend, though.  
“Oi, Charlie,” said Matt. “Look who Bird Boy’s hanging around with.”  
  
“Lestrange,” said Charlie, disgusted. “I thought he was a loon but I didn’t think he was stupid. If you want to hang out with pure evil, go ahead.”  
With that, Matt and his chocolate haired friend, Charlie left. Newt sighed and turned to face the girl from yesterday but she was already halfway down the hall. Newt raced after her.  
  
“Hey wait,” he called. “I never caught your name.”  
  
The girl stopped in her tracks. “You should go.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
“Those boys are right, I’m a monster,” she said. “I was mean to you yesterday. You should go.”  
  
“No,” said Newt indignantly. “I’m not going. You don’t look like a monster to me. I’m not afraid of you, or anything else.”  
  
“You should be,” she said. She started to walk away again but Newt sidestepped in front of her. “Move.”  
  
Newt looked into her eyes, taking in their fierceness but also their sorrow. He didn’t move.  
  
“What’s your name?”  
  
“Leta,” she said, unfolding her arms. “Leta Lestrange, and you are?”  
  
“Hello Leta,” said Newt, extending a hand to her. “I’m Newt Scamander.” Leta took his hand and shook it.  
  
“You’re terribly annoying,” she said. “You know that?”  
  
Newt smiled. “So I’ve heard.”  
  
School didn’t feel so lonely anymore.  
  
Newt kept to himself for the rest of the school day after Leta had brushed him off three times. When his last lesson ended, a weight was lifted on his chest then immediately replaced by a sinking feeling in his stomach. Theseus’s dinner invitation. Newt knew that he couldn’t possibly fake an illness to get out of it. Though with the thunderstorm in his stomach, he felt he may not have to fake being ill. He boarded the bus when it arrived. His eyes searched for the familiar form of the person in the hoodie. To Newt’s dismay, they were gone. Newt took his place at the back of the bus and stared out the window. He’d have to find some good news to share and fast.  
  
When he arrived home, he found that his brother was already in the kitchen, chatting with his mother. His mother was never any happier than when Theseus was home. Newt wanted to disappear, if he hadn’t already become Theseus’s shadow. His mother didn’t notice as he sprinted past the dining room, hoping to make it to the solace of his bedroom but Theseus did.  
  
“Newt,” he said with a smile, his arms extending. “How are you?”  
  
Newt gave a small smile and stayed partially tucked behind the wall of the hallway. His mother gave him an annoyed look and motioned to Theseus with her eyes. Newt moved from the hallway but stayed on the outside of the kitchen. Theseus dropped his arms with an awkward chuckle. He ran a hand through the kempt hair on the top of his head that Newt was so jealous of and turned to his mother.  
  
“Shall we?” he asked.  
  
“I’ll grab my purse,” she replied and left the room.  
  
Newt hadn’t moved and now Theseus was left staring at him. Newt fidgeted, trying to break the eye contact.  
  
“You started term at a state school this year,” he said. Newt didn’t feel inclined to reply. “How has it been?”  
  
“It’s been alright,” he said.  
  
“Have you made any friends?”  
  
“Lots,” Newt lied. He held the bit of sarcasm that word required back.  
  
“Newt,” said Theseus with a frown. “You don’t have to lie to me.”  
  
“Is it so hard to believe I’d get on with people at school?”  
  
“That’s not what I meant.”  
  
“Yes it is,” said Newt bitterly.  
  
“No, it isn’t,” replied Theseus calmly. “I only meant that you have a hard time with friends. And if you had lots of friends you’d look-” he motions to Newt’s face with his hands. “Happier. And less tired. Why do you look so tired?”  
  
Newt shrugged.  
  
“I should come home more often,” Theseus sighed. “I don’t want us to be like this.”  
  
“Mum is still going to like you more, you know.”  
  
Mrs. Scamander appeared from behind Newt cutting off the unpleasant conversation. Theseus opened the door for their mother and walked out after her. Newt was last, as always.  
  
Theseus had a nice car. It wasn’t extravagant or expensive; it was practical like his suits and much like Theseus himself. Newt didn’t really like Theseus’s car, or his suits, or Theseus himself. Newt fought the urge to search his pocket for a phone that wasn’t there. His mother never allowed phones at dinner, much less with family. Newt could have snuck a book past his mother. She wouldn’t have noticed and Theseus wouldn’t have commented on it. One thing Theseus was good for was not ratting Newt out. Maybe he was too old for it. Newt looked at the carpet below his feet. It was much cleaner than his things. Somehow Theseus was unbearingly perfect in every aspect of his life.  
  
“How’s your research on rattlesnakes going?” asked Theseus.  
  
“I finished that ages ago,” said Newt, shifting against the fabric of his seat.  
  
“What are you working on?”  
  
“Anglerfish,” said Newt, with a small smile. Very few people showed an interest in his studies. “Did you know that only the females have a dorsal spine protruding from their heads? That’s why they’re called anglerfish but only half of them have one. Most of them are quite small. The biggest they can reach is 3.3 feet and-”  
“Newton,” said Mrs. Scamander sternly. “You’re rambling again. How are anglerfish going to help you get a respectable job like your brother Theseus?”  
“I already told you: I’m going to be a zoologist.”  
  
“A zoologist isn’t a respectable job,” Mrs. Scamander dissented with a wave of her hand.  
  
“Mum,” interjected Theseus with a plaintive look.  
  
“It isn’t,” Mrs. Scamander said with a finality that made Newt slump his shoulders and Theseus quiet his rebuttals.  
  
When the Scamanders arrived at the restaurant, Theseus’s charming smile had made a reappearance and Newt’s mother had assumed a neutral look. Newt’s shoulders remained in their slumped state up the steps and in the glass doors. The waiter came in with an award-winning smile along with the menus but faltered when he saw Newt. He attempted a reassuring smile that came off as a grimace. Newt flashed a smile that he hoped was appreciative. He’d only mastered two types of smiles: uncomfortable and genuine happiness. Once they were sat at a booth -it was collectively decided that tables were inferior- and flipping through the menus, Mrs. Scamander finally deemed it appropriate to comment on Newt’s sullenness.  
  
“At least fake a smile,” she said. “We’re trying to have a nice family outing.”  
  
“I don’t find it to be very nice,” Newt mumbled.  
  
“Well,” Theseus announced when the drinks came by to clear the air. “How do you think the beef wellington might be?”  
  
“Not better than mine,” joked Mrs. Scamander.  
  
“Of course not, mum.”  
  
Newt took a sip of water and said, “What an awfully boring conversation: having a chat about beef wellington of all things.”  
  
“Yeah,” agreed Theseus. “It’s like the weather.”  
  
“‘How’s the beef wellington?’” suggested Newt.  
  
“‘Good’,” replied Theseus dramatically.  
  
“‘But how good is the wellington here?’”  
  
“‘Good I tell you! Good.’”  
  
Newt and Theseus laughed until they turned red in the face and the waiter had to politely clear his throat to write any orders down. In the end, Theseus did end up ordering the beef wellington and so did their mother. Newt decided on a sandwich. Somehow, an arbitrary conversation on beef wellington was enough to bring a hint of a smile to Newt’s face.  
  
Theseus spent most of the meal eating and trying to quiet Mrs. Scamnder’s rather incessant prods into his work and love life.  
  
“Mum, as I’ve told you before, I’m not seeing anyone,” Theseus repeated after the seventieth time she’d asked. “And things at work are as usual. I don't like gossip, you know that.”  
  
Mrs. Scamander gave up after a while and turned her attention to Newt.  
  
“Are you making good grades, Newton?” she asked with a chunk of potatoes hovering near her lips.  
  
“I’m only three days in,” Newt said.  
  
“Have you made any friends?”  
  
“Not really,” Newt said. “But there’s this girl Leta who I find to be-”  
  
“Hmm, the Lestrange family," Mrs. Scamander said, looking up at the ceiling. "Odd ones. Lots of rumours."  
  
"Rumours are usually entirely false."  
  
"Maybe," Mrs. Scamander mused. "They're very wealthy also. I wonder if that Lestrange girl is as awful as they say."  
  
"I'm sure she's lovely," interjected Theseus. "How are the other students?"  
  
"Utterly uninterested in me," said Newt bluntly. "I annoy them."  
  
"I doubt that's true."  
  
"It is," Newt replied nonchalantly. "It doesn't bother me though."  
  
"When Theseus was your age," Mrs. Scamander began. Theseus looked as if he were trying to suppress an eye roll and an exclamation of 'here we go again.' Newt did both of those things; Mrs. Scamander went on anyway. Newt tuned her out with a passage he'd read on mating calls. Theseus listened attentively but his face had a hint of boredom.  
The meal was almost over when Theseus cleared his throat.  
  
"I've invited you both to dinner because I have news," Theseus said.  
  
"Are you engaged?" asked Mrs. Scamander eagerly.  
  
"No."  
  
"Did you get a promotion?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Then what is it?" asked Mrs. Scamander, getting slightly impatient.  
  
"I suppose it's not huge news when you consider engagements and promotions. I’ve decided to move back home. They’ve got a better police force here and I haven’t been around nearly enough and, well, nothing’s official but I’ve been talking to one of the chief police officers from here and-”  
  
He was interrupted by a gleeful noise from his mother.  
  
“-she thinks I’d do better here,” Theseus finished. “Not getting a promotion, Mum. Just being moved.”  
  
“Well,” his mother said, slightly disappointed. “It’s good to hear you will be coming back home. Where will you be staying?”  
  
“I found a flat not far from here. It’s not ideal but it’ll do for now.”  
  
“Maybe your ambition will rub off on Newt while you’re here. Hasn’t done a thing as of late except write useless facts in that notebook of his.”  
  
“They’re not useless,” mumbled Newt. Theseus said nothing.  
  
Newt found himself on the back of the bus with the hoodie girl once again the next morning. At this point, he’d decided he would talk to her even if she didn’t answer. He talked about the anglerfish he’d been researching and how much Theseus’s presence irked him. The girl didn’t do so much as nod. Newt found himself becoming content with rambling to uninterested people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *looks at last update date*  
> oh fu-  
> i haven't updated this in what feels like a century. i honestly don't even know why but here we are. 
> 
> i hope you guys enjoyed this chapter after such a long absence.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment if you liked this (please).


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